Read Between the Lines
by Vicodininducedrage
Summary: Set after S2 Ep23, "Who's Your Daddy?" House ponders why Cuddy came into his office that day, and what she was going to tell him. Set in 3rd person, from different points of view, Wilson, Cuddy, and House. Also putting an M rating for later content.


**_Hey everyone! This is my first story I've written in a very long time, so I don't really know how well it's going to turn out. Either way though, it's always fun to write these stories. feedback of any kind is always welcome, thanks!_**

**Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with House, M.D. or its producers. But if I was David Shore would've got a stern talking to.**

* * *

_Her heels clicked against the hard tiled floor as she opened the doors to House's office. She stood in front of his desk and stared down at him, his eyes locked with hers as they stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds before he softly shook his head as a sign for her to speak._

_"Thank you for the injections," said Cuddy, softly._

_"You're welcome," he spoke. She nodded and swiveled to leave._

_"You came all the way up here just to tell me that?" House questioned her motive. She turned and gave him a slightly puzzled, concerned look, "No," she said before finally retreating out the door. House sat in his office, a look of confusion washed across his face._

* * *

[C] [C] [C] [C] [C]

Cuddy paced around her office a few times before finally slinking into her couch. She rubbed her hands along her face in an attempt to calm herself. What was she thinking going up to his office like that? What did she plan to tell him? _'__Oh by the way, I wanted you to be my sperm donor?'_ or _'Thanks for the help and, oh yeah, can I use your sperm for my baby?_

She wanted to tell him the truth, she wanted him to know that she wanted him to be her baby's father. She groaned. _What was she supposed to do?_ She couldn't go back up to his office, and she knew he wasn't going to come to hers. The more she thought about it, she more frustrated she got. _Why couldn't she just be attracted to normal men?_ Maybe ones that weren't self-obsessive or self-destructive. She groaned again, and this time let out a puff of air. She needed someone to talk to about everything, and since she didn't have any female friends, she knew there was only one person she could go to.

Cuddy threw open the door to Wilson's office and started mumbling something about House, apparently not realizing she had interrupted his discussion with a patient.

She finally looked up to both Wilson and the patient, her eyes widening, "Oh... I-I'm sorry I didn't notice you were with someone."

"It's fine, we were just finishing," Wilson looked to Cuddy and then to the dark skinned man sitting in the seat across from Wilson's desk. He was older, probably late 50s, heavier than normal, and his hair graying, "Dr. Cuddy, meet Dr. Brady. We were just discussing the upcoming Oncology Convention in Baltimore this weekend." Dr. Brady stood and walked under the door frame. He raised a hand out to Cuddy, she took and firmly shook it, "Nice to finally meet you doctor. Not everywhere has a Dean as good looking as you," he winked and let go of her hand. Cuddy cast her gaze downward, her face flushing, "I assume this is my cue to get out of here, nice talking to you again Dr. Wilson, hope to see you this weekend in Baltimore," and with that he left.

Cuddy turned to Wilson with a raised eyebrow, "Well he was..." she huffed.

Wilson chuckled, "Hey, he's a good Oncologist, just, apparently, not as good at being discrete."

He offered her a place to sit on his couch, "Now what were you mumbling about when you so rudely barged into my office?" Her face grew red in embarrassment, "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that, I didn't realize you had any meetings today." He shook his head, "Don't worry about it, I wasn't originally scheduled for any, Dr. Brady just shows up unannounced at times, we were just catching up," he rested his hands in his lap as he started his next sentence, "but less about me and more about whatever has you so strung up."

She took a deep breath and decided to just let it out, "I've been doing IVF injections twice a day... and House is helping me."

"Wait, you're trying to have a baby?"

"I've thought really hard about this and I've decided that it's the one thing I'm missing in my life," she looked down at her hands. "And I've narrowed the sperm donors down to one, but he's not actually in the sperm bank."

"Okay, so where does House come into-" he stopped mid-sentence sudden realization washing over his face, "It's him isn't? You want to have his baby? You actually want House to father a child? Of everyone, him?" She nodded her head.

"And you're sure about this? You're completely ready to be a single mother with the responsibility of a baby, House's baby, nonetheless."

"Yes, I am completely ready. And who knows we could always use a little House running around solving puzzles." She smiled at the thought.

"More like a baby House limping around with a permanent scowl insulting patients and avoiding clinic duty" he chuckled before adding, "hopefully it doesn't come out with scruff." She smacked his arm as she laughed and got up to leave, turning to Wilson before walking out, "Thanks for the talk, I think I'll stop by House's after work and tell him what I think he needs to hear." She turned back around and walked out the door without another word. She got back to her office and started to tidy up so she could keep her mind off of House until she got off work.

[W] [W] [W] [W] [W]

Wilson leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. _Why did she always come to him? Why do they both always come to him? Don't they have other friends?_ It suddenly dawned on him that neither of them really had other close friends besides himself. Just as he started to straighten up his desk to leave, House barged in his door.

He paced a couple of times before exclaiming, "What does she think she's playing at?" After finishing his sentence, he sat in the chair across from Wilson's desk.

"Cuddy trouble?" Wilson questioned, even though he already knew who and what he was talking about.

House looked up at him and stated, using his hands to exaggerate what he was saying, "She just barged into my office a couple of hours ago, it looked like she wanted to say something important, but instead just said thank you. What did she want to tell me?" He looked up at Wilson, apparently just registering what he had said to him, "How did you know?"

"Well, not to give anything away but she may have come in here, and I may know what that 'important thing' was," he used his fingers to form air quotes around 'important thing.'

"Spill!" House exclaimed as he sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the edge of his knees.

Wilson shook his head and waived his hands into the air creating an 'X' motion, "Patient confidentiality."

House rolled his eyes and scoffed, "She's not your patient and there's nothing confidential between us. Now spill."

"I really can't say anything, House. But I might know that she might be at your door in oh, let's say," he checked his watch, "45 minutes. To tell you this important thing." House's eyes narrowed, and then as if he had a sudden epiphany, widened, he got up and limped quickly out the door.

Wilson chuckled as he gathered his belongings to put in his briefcase saying to himself, "Typical," and with that turned off his desk lamp. He went around putting everything in its place before turning off the overhead light and walking out the door. Tonight was going to be a long night.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

House rushed home, thanking himself that he rode his bike to work this morning and not his car. When he opened the door he realized just how trashed his house was. Books strewn about from his spat with morphine earlier this week, clothes strewn about because he was too lazy to pick them up, dishes in the sink, and whiskey glasses lay about his coffee table. He sighed heavily and started to clean his apartment. He couldn't have Cuddy come here to see him living like a pig could he? Wait... _Why did he care what Cuddy thought about his living conditions? Why did he care so much that she was going to be over soon? What was that god damned important thing? _He questioned all of these things as he continued to clean. Just as he was finishing the dishes he heard a distinctive knock at the door. Her knock. Without picking up his cane he limped into his living room to open the door, swinging it open, "Just because you came early doesn't mean I'll pay extra."

Cuddy still had her hand up as if in mid swing, lowering it slowly as she began, "Is this a bad time?"

House said with a slight sarcastic tone, "Well either way, I'm not paying extra," then followed up with, in a more serious tone, "Why are you here Cuddy?"

"We need to talk."


End file.
